“Fitzroy asked the same question in about the same tone of voice,” Esmond said.
“We told him we were holding you as a material, witness,” O’Hara said from somewhere behind him. “Incommunicado, for your own safety.”
Fear began to gather in his-belly like nausea. “You can’t do that, man. It’s against the law.”
“Don’t make me laugh, Sol,” Esmond said, far from laughing. “We’re already doing it.”
“I got certain rights. Fitz will get a writ of habeas corpus or something and spring me. Sure he will.”
“Very likely,” Esmond said.
“Good, good.”
“Maybe not so good,” O’Hara said, coming to a stop at the wall opposite the window from where he’d started. “Mull it over a little, Sol.”
“What’s to mull?”
“You’re not a blood brother,” Esmond said, carefully folding the newspaper. “You’re not a soldier in the Scarpino family. All you are is a useful associate, a bookkeeper retained through the sufferance of Herman Ventura.”
“So I do a little work for Herman.”
“You do a lot of work for Herman. You have facts and figures on his loan-sharking operation right at your fingertips, facts and figures that Herman himself would have to check out with you before he passed on Scarpino’s cut.”
“I don’t admit any of this,” Steinbach said. “Not an iota.”
“Not yet.”
“Not ever.”
“You’re no clam, Sol. You talk in your sleep. It’s common knowledge.”
“Who says?”
“Ventura says. One-eye Ollie says. A lot of mugs say. You’re kind of a computer brain, Sol, but you’ve got the sort of spine that makes you wobble when you walk.”
“That’s your opinion.”
“I have another opinion too,” Esmond said. “Twelve hours after you leave our custody, Sol, I think you’ll be a dead man.”
“You bastards are trying to connive me into a comer.”
“It’s just part of our job,” O’Hara said, on the slow move again. “One of the pleasant parts.”
“Let’s say Fitzroy produces a writ to get you back on the street,” Esmond said. “Within an hour after you wave us good-by, I plan to obtain a warrant charging you as co-conspirator in the Kessell Construction Company case. Ventura will be named as another conspirator along with One-eye Ollie. Ventura and Ollie will also be designated as defendants. But not you, Sol. You’ll just be a co-conspirator. I’ll explain the subtle differences in some detail to the press. And Fitzroy, I am sure, will explain it all to Ventura.”
Feeling suddenly nauseous and cold, Sol Steinbach said, “You gents are signing my death warrant. You realize that, don’t you?”
“I know nothing of the kind,” Esmond said stiffly.
“I’m dead.”
“Not if you cooperate.”
“I’m dead no matter which way I go.”
“Not at all, Sol. Meet Mister Woolstock. He’s in the Justice Department, all the way up here from Washington.” Esmond turned toward the man lounging on the edge of the conference table. “John, say hello to Sol Steinbach. He’s got to be our ace in the hole.”
“Welcome to the fold,” Woolstock said, not bothering to rise.
“Oh, Jesus!” Steinbach said.
“Have you ever heard of the Organized Crime Act?” Woolstock asked quietly.
Sol Steinbach shook his head.
“Congress enacted it on the fifteenth of October, nineteen-seventy. It’s quite a nice piece of legislation. Gives the Strike Force a lot of leeway in protecting reliable informers and witnesses against retribution from the fat cats.”
“I bet,” Steinbach said.
“Under the provisions of the Act,” Woolstock went on amiably, “we are permitted to give a man like you a complete new identity, from birth certificate, social security number and name. We are also empowered to give you money for a new start, to set you up in another part of the country, to underwrite plastic surgery if you so desire, and to aid you in obtaining employment compatible with your past training. What do you think of that?”
“It sounds strictly from Siberia.”
“There is the debit side,” Woolstock said, lighting a cigarette. “Once the step is taken, you are effectively fenced off from the past. Many old patterns of life must be abandoned. The same with certain old habits, certain old friends. But when you consider that old friends may become dangerous enemies, you will perceive the credit side of the ledger.”
“You talk like a lawyer,” Sol Steinbach said.
“I have the degree but I don’t practise.”
“Well?” Esmond said impatiently.
“I got to give this some thought. A lot of thought.”
“Return him to the think tank,” Esmond directed the deputy.
Sol Steinbach sat and thought for three hours. Then he was taken back up to Esmond’s office. O’Hara was holding the fort alone, a smug grin on his elfin face. He began tapping a yellow pencil against the edge of the desk in time to his words.
“The great mouthpiece has done his work well, Sol. You are now a free man. Under a measly one-thousand-dollar bond. Good-by and good luck.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Why not, Sol?”
“I want to live a little longer.”
“That’s what I call being smart,” O’Hara said, pushing a sheet of printed paper across the desk. “Just sign your name there.”
“What’s it all about?”
“It declares you have volunteered to testify in behalf of the United States in the trial of Herman Ventura and Oliver One-eye Pace. It also commits you to the protective custody of John Woolstock and his staff.”
Events began to move swiftly after that. Esmond returned to the office as if summoned by O’Hara’s thought waves. Woolstock entered a few minutes later, accompanied by an attractive blonde who was carrying several shorthand pads and a handful of sharpened pencils.
“Marie, make yourself comfortable in that leather chair,” Woolstock said. “Are you ready, Sol?”
He nodded mournfully.
“Fine, fine. Let’s start with the shy locking records. Where do they keep them?”
The blonde was taking it down.
“There in Ventura’s produce-company office.”
“Truck Garden Distribution?”
“That’s the place.”
“We figured as much, Sol. We’ve even got a key to the back door. And we’ve been nosing around there at night on three occasions without finding what we want.”
“You been looking too hard.”
“Obviously. One of our specialists opened the safe. Nothing there but money. Lots of it.”
“Did you notice the telephone books?”
“Stacks of them.”
“This year we’re keeping our records in the Greater Hartford directory.”
“Please elucidate, Sol.”
“If you’ll pass me any directory you’ve got handy.”
O’Hara complied.
Smiling faintly, Sol opened the book in his lap. “This little system I worked out myself. Ventura gave me a nice bonus. Now if the young lady will lend me one of her pencils.”
The blonde handed one over.
“Since Kessell Construction is uppermost, I could use that as an example, if you don’t mind.”
“Perfect,” Woolstock said.
“We go to the beginning of the K listings,” Sol said, going to it with several page flips. “KAB Enterprises happens to be the first listing here. So I take this pencil and place a dot under the K, under the E and under each S. Then I go to the next entry. K L M Royal Dutch Airlines. I place a dot under the E. Now I’m looking for an L, so the next entry is no good. The one after that won’t work either. Here we are. Kabel’s Luggage Shop. A pencil dot under the L in Kabel and another under the L in Luggage. You see what I’ve done, I guess.”
“You’ve spelled Kessell,” Woolstock said.